Turnover
by SerpentsAttire
Summary: 2008 Movieverse. Now a twoshot. REX'S POV. "When Rex let me drive, and I turned us over". What really happened that day. Rex-Speed brotherbonding fic. Spoilers.
1. Part One

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own Speed Racer. That right belongs strictly to Speed Racer Enterprise (who secretly want to hire me to one job or another, they just don't know it yet). I'm just borrowing their characters and the 2008 movie's concepts for my little one-shot. They'll all get over it and live._

_**Notes:**__ I'm totally addicted to the movie (seen it four times!) and now Speed Racer altogether. It's the only upside of working at McDonalds – I get the Speed Racer toys for free (I have the Mach 4, the Mach 5, two Shooting Stars, the Gray Ghost's car, and Cruncher Block's truck, complete with firing missal. Still looking for Taejo's car, the Mach 6, and the Speed Racer girl's necklace). I'm also saving up to paint my car like the Mach 5 – but shhh! Don't tell my mom. Hehe._

_**Warnings: **__Eh, language, and maybe a little abuse of the movie's timeline. Maybe. Nothing major._

**Turnover**

The sun was blindingly bright as the Mach 4 raced down the thick, wickedly twisting track that was Thunderhead Race Way, and whilst to any viewer it glittered off the red Racing Motors car in a flattering manner, to the driver it was nothing but a nuisance or a vicious potential danger, depending on which way the Mach 4 turned when steered, and if he were dumb enough to actually look up into the bright yellow ball.

Which, at times of non-focus, he was prone to doing.

Even now, ten minutes after throwing his beloved car into fourth gear and whipping the vehicle around the infamous Baritone curve, Rex Racer was still gritting his teeth in an aggravation that had no true source, his eyes narrowed in a fashion similar to those who were trying to shield their eyes from the sun, even though his visor was quite capable of blocking the troublesome rays for him. His calloused hands gripped the crescentwheel viciously, his ears so inundated with the roar of the Mach 4's engine that he could not hear her groan in protest of his neglect. He wasn't paying attention -- he couldn't focus. There was something else that was plaguing his mind, something that was overriding his senses. Something that was -- wrong. A feeling of dread, so harsh in the pit of his stomach that tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. A stabbing pain that was ebbing up to his chest, peircing his heart in a way that just made him want to break down and sob. But nothing had happened to bring about the sensation -- his parents had just celebrated their nineteenth anniversary, and his own eighteenth birthday was fast approaching. Speedy was here with him, safe and sound at the end of the track, safely against the wall so as to be out of the way of the approaching red racecar.

So there was nothing ...

Suddenly, the Mach 4 gave a horrific screech as he sped into a right turn, the tires spinning malevolently in delayed reprimand. With a curse, Rex instantly relaxed his grip, easing his foot off the pedal as he gently ran his hands up and down the crescentwheel in a gentle caress as he spoke in to her in low, soothing murmurs.

"Easy, baby. I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'll keep sole attention on you until we're done, okay? Easy." The Mach 4 trembled down to an acceptable level of control at his words, though she gave a low rumble of warning. "I know," he repeated, taking his foot completely off of the accelerator. "What do you need, huh? Tell me, baby. I need you to tell me. I'm listening."

The tires shook, the engine shuttered. And Rex berated himself with more vitality then even Pops could ever muster up. He knew better than to ignore his car, especially when he was on the track. A dead stop was an easy way to fix the mistake, of course, in a way that would force him to push the fourth generation of the Mach back to the garage and endure hours of lectures he now knew by heart.

But she knew a better way. She always did, and as always, she educated him.

_Shaking ... shuttering ... trembling ... 3rd gear ... 4th gear ... accelerator. Floor it, floor it, floor it._

**Slam!**

"Whoo-hoo!" The cry erupted from his lips uninvited as the Mach 4 flew back to its steady 700kmph in less time than it took for him to blink. The engine roared with joy, and the car herself sang him glories as she flew around the turns as though they served no possible danger. The sound still covered his ears, but it no longer dominated his hearing -- the sound of the wheels echoed in his head, smooth and perfect and enjoying the ride -- the gentle whistle of the metal cutting cleanly through the air -- and Speed's excited exclamations as he zoomed across the finish line of his own mental race. And this time, when he hit the brakes, his soul on wheels slammed to a stop with the same enthusiasm with which she had started, and Rex was unable to keep the grin from his face even as his little brother jumped from the gleaming white Mach 5 and raced to the still running racecar.

"Rex!" The energetic eight-year-old sounded so bewildered for someone who had seen him race so many times. "Rex! That was amazing. I can't believe -- how did you -- Rex!" The raven-haired boy suddenly had his arms latched around his neck, legs wrapped around his torso as he babbled on in his endless awe. The eldest of the brothers kept his grin firmly in place as he pulled them both from the Mach 4, even chuckling as Speed's voice grew louder. "I thought you burned out; it was beginning to lose momentum! And then ... you just fixed it! And it just took off --."

" 'She', Speedy, not 'it'," Rex corrected absently as he pulled off his helmet with his free hand, and then blinked, pushing his little brother back far enough to look him the eye. "Wait, you saw all of that?"

"Saw what?" Speed cocked his head in a moment of comprehension, before his light blue eyes lit up in understanding. "Of course I did. It -- um, she," he corrected timidly before continuing. "Was gliding on the track just fine, but then _she _just started to shake, and twist, and I thought for sure you were going to break down, but then she just calmed. It was amazing,!" Blue eyes stared up at the seventeen-year-old in wonder. "How did you do it, huh Rex?" The question was imploring, the puppy-dog expression verging irresistible, and for a split second, the racer was compelled to share with his little brother everything he knew about driving, everything that was shared between he and the Mach 4. Almost ready to exploit the bond existing between he and the red T-180, to someone who deserved it and no-less.

But the words would not leave his mouth, held back by some invisible and strong force that seemed irritated that he had even contemplated divulging the secret. Instead, a half-smile twisted upon his sweaty face, and he slowly shook his head toward his baby brother.

"You'll understand when it's your turn, Speed," he promised, chuckling again at the indignant look that formulated on Speed's face. "But for now, I think it's time that we headed home. Mom's probably getting ready to put lunch on the table, and we're still here --."

"No she isn't!" Speed's eyes were wide as he cut his brother off, shaking his head vehemently, and Rex favored him with an amused look. "It's only 12:30, Rex! She puts lunch on the table at 1:15 _exactly_, so we don't have to leave just yet. We still have time for you to go around the track at least two more times. Come on, Rex. Please? Please, please, please, please, _please_?" The same puppy-dog eyes, the small pout, all back in place as the youngster gazed up at his older brother with newfound momentum, and Rex sighed.

The relationship between him and Speed was not like that of normal brothers, as he was all too aware, and as Speed was beginning to no doubt notice. Despite the ten-year age difference, Rex was Speed's best friend, and vice versa. When faced between going out with the other drivers after a qualification race and picking Speed up from school, the elder always chose the latter, preferring his younger brother's babbling, comforting company to the loud and sometimes jealous racers. And he could not count how many times Speed had faked not feeling well to get out of going to a classmate's birthday party (polite invitation only, to Rex's fury) to instead watch him tune up the Mach 4 or give his advice on the random designs Rex did in his free time. Their parents often joked that they were twins – soul mates born ten years apart, destined to never leave the side of the other. Practically attached at the hip as it was, Rex had no qualms with the very strong bond that he and Speed shared, and therefore had seen no problems when he had started bringing Speed to the track to watch him work. It comforted him somewhat to have his little brother so near – being both with his car and sibling … just felt right, somehow.

Besides, the little ball of energy had a contagious enthusiasm for racing and horrible knack at it as well – if they could ever convince their mother that her "darling, precious baby" had the potential to be just as talented, if not more so, than her eldest son, then Rex had no doubt that one day he would be racing Speed on this track one day, too. And that would be something.

"I don't think so, Speedy," he said reluctantly, finally breaking from his thoughts as he set the little boy down. "Mom and Pops don't know about you coming to the track. If we're late, they'll come looking, and if they find us here --." He trailed off, leaving the other to finish the sentence with his own imagination as he leaned inside the Mach 4 to cut the engine. He felt her purr thoughtfully under his fingertips as they brushed the cutoff, and on that whim, he turned his head to look at Speed.

He was standing there, surprisingly not pouting, but with a far away look in his cobalt eyes as he stared at the red car Mach. There was something about his expression that caught Rex's attention – it was wistful, dreamy, and suddenly he pictured his little brother, quite a bit older, in the cockpit of the furious racecar, attention completely focused as they tore up Thunderhead, crowd screaming "Go, Speed, go!" as they left the competition in the dust.

And Rex paused.

'_It's not like it will be the first time,' _he reasoned with himself. _'Pops lets him do it all the time. And he knows what and what not to do – it's instinct for him. And I'll be right there.'_ Another favorable glance. _'Granted, he'd throttle me, and Mom … ugh. But still … why not? Just this once.' _With a smirk, he turned his head away.

"Wanna go for a drive, Speedy?" He called out nonchalantly, slowly climbing back into the car, comforting her eagerness to run as he turned back toward his brother. Speed was staring at him with uncomprehending eyes in a manner that made Rex's smirk grow to full-out smile.

"But … but there's no passenger seat, Rex," he stated softly, still confused.

"Yeah, well … I figured it's time for you to drive on a real race track." He shrugged. "If you're going to be a famous racecar driver one day, then you're going to have to start." He stopped then, widening his eyes and giving the other an incredulous look. "Or have you decided you want to go be a lawyer now? Is that what you want, Speedy? Speed Racer, the lawyer?"

"No!" The cry was outright and fervent, and Rex suddenly found himself with a lapful of anxious Speed. "I'm Speed Racer the _racer_," the little boy growled firmly with a frown as he clung tightly to the wheel. A frown that quickly turned timid as he turned his head to look at his brother. "Um, what do I do?" And Rex laughed

"First, you put this on," he ordered lightly, pulling the harness around both of them and clicking it into the proper holders. "And then the helmet – don't give me that look, Speedy. And latch it, or it won't stay on – thank you. Now, you can't reach the pedals just yet, I know, so here's what you're going to do. Push your feet down on mine for the accelerator or the break – kick it if you want to change gears, okay?" He felt Speed stiffen against his chest.

"You're not going to tell me when?" He demanded.

"I'll tell you if you're wrong," Rex amended quickly, and he reached a hand over to flick up the right switches. "I think you can handle the rest. You better hurry though, Speedy," he added teasingly. "Your math may be right, but I think we can only go around once --."

His words were cut off as Speed's small foot pressed down excitedly on his own, and Mach 4 took off in a wave.

There was very little different about Rex's driving and Speed's. He was a little choppy, as was expected of any first time _child_ driver, and did not know yet to listen to the machine he was working with. But he knew how to work the wheel as they went around the first dog bowl, and then the second, and kept the Mach centered perfectly. They hadn't gone over 500kmph, – Rex was smart enough to keep Speed's foot from pressing too far down, so the speed they were traveling at was perfectly safe. The car was a little unsteady, not used to her driver, but she said nothing in the way of warning.

And yet the feeling of dread had swallowed his stomach whole, leaving his palms sweaty and his breathing slightly fast as Speed's excited mumbling was drowned out by the engine's roar. His gut cried for him to stop the Mach 4 as Speed kicked his foot over to third gear.

'_But nothing's wrong, Rex,' _he scolded himself. _'You're being paranoid. Just relax. Listen to how much fun he's having.'_

"You okay, Speedy?" He called out over the wind, and was rewarded by a delighted reply.

"Yeah! This is awesome!" Speed's voice was louder than any other noise in Rex's ears. "Can I go over the jump?"

"Maybe not this time, bud." That notion left him slightly queasy. But the feeling of Speed slumping slightly against his chest caught the elder's attention, and he pushed his shoulder forward slightly to nudge his brother. "Tell you what, though. How about you take the Crusher's Turn, huh? Will that be good enough for you, Mr. Racecar Driver?" The answer was affirmative, and Speed leaned forward with a child's determination, solely focused save for the wicked smile implanted on his face. He kicked Rex's foot over to fourth gear, sending the Mach 4 to a dangerous 600kmph. Discreetly, Rex lifted his arms to position his hand to take over the wheel as they flew around the last dog bowl – Crusher's Turn was in sight, and despite the turn being Rex's idea, butterflies still flittered in his stomach. He felt Speed's foot slide off of his, but said nothing on it, assuming the boy was too caught up in the thrill of the ride to notice – they'd talk on it later. Right now he was more focused on figuring out what was wrong …

"Okay, Speedy," he said allowed, trying to keep his voice steady. "We're going to slow down just a little, you can't take this turn to fast – or too sharp. Easy with the wheel, Spe--."

Suddenly, the car wailed, and Rex vaguely noticed the familiar feeling of the two gears being pressed at once – Speed had reached the third gear. The T-180 shook horrifically, and on reflex, Rex slammed his foot onto the break, only too late realizing that Speed, yelling out in alarm, had jerked the crescentwheel completely – the left tires were no longer on the track.

"_Shit_!" The word escaped his mouth without a thought as the image of the Crusher's steel-railing greeted his sight, before his eyes closed tightly, arms wrapping themselves around Speed protectively as the perfect metal of the Mach 4 crunched into the harsh metal of the track as the car flipped over.

And in a flash of blinding pain, everything went black.

**.T.**

He awoke a few minutes later to the smell of burning rubber, the sound of a whining engine and scraping tires that were moving, but not across anything. His eyes opened only to slam shut again, a fierce stabbing in his head sending blinding light across his vision. His body ached, his lungs screamed from lack of proper oxygen. He absently realized he was on his side, despite the fact that he was sitting inside of a car that should be upright.

Where was he? The Mach 4, that was a given – he raced nothing else. And if were racing, the meant Thunderhead Race Way, as there was no closer track suitable enough. Which would leave the obvious conclusion that he had lost control of the Mach and crashed, even though he had raced the track dozens of times and had never done so before. He felt a trickle of something wet and warm travel down the side of his head … blood. He wasn't wearing a helmet, either, then. He did not even want to know why. No doubt Speedy, though he was unwaveringly loyal to Rex, would spill that bit of information to their mother on accident.

Wait a minute … Speed …

Rex's eyes snapped open again, and this time he ignored the painful light as the feeling of a limp, warm body in his arms became agonizingly apparent. A pained gasp escaped his lips as he struggled to push his body up.

"Speedy," he rasped out, pushing his shoulders to shake the younger boy. "Speedy. _Speed!" _Slowly, carefully, he extracted his arms from around his little brother's frame, alarmed as the figure slumped forward further, and hurried to undo the harness. It took every bit of strength he had to gather Speed back against him before he fell completely, and pull them both from the crying car.

They were a good five feet away before Rex's strength gave out and he fell to his elbows, careful to take the brunt of the fall from Speed. Desperately, he lowered his little brother to the hot metal of Thunderhead, hoping he had only been knocked out. His breath hitched in his throat at the site that greeted him.

Speed's white face was completely covered in blood, too much – Rex could not find the source of it. His breathing was slightly shallow, his skin paler than usual. His black hair was matted to his head, and Rex realized the blood that covered his own hands was that of his brother.

"No," he whispered. "No, no, no, no, no. No, no, no, no, no. Speed!" He reached down, grasping the smaller shoulders and giving them a harsh shake. "Speed, wake up! Wake up!"

"Racer?" The voice that called out his name was not the one he wanted to hear – Speed remained unresponsive as the sound of racing footsteps called out to his ears. "Racer – oh my God." The voice continued speaking, occasionally yelling, but Rex paid it no mind as he pulled Speed into his arms.

He was so stupid, and that was too nice of a word to describe him. He shouldn't have offered the drive – Speed wouldn't have known any better to have said no. There should have been more people present – a safer track! And he had already known something was off. He should have stopped when the Mach 4 had warned him the first time. He should have stopped when he had averted the first danger of crashing. But no. He had given in to his craving for danger, and now Speed …

"C'mon, Speedy," he pleaded softly, cradling the little body in his arms. "Please. Please wake up." Blood that was not his own began to drip on his skin, but he ignored its terrifying presence. "Please, Speedy. Come on, little brother. Don't do this to me. _Please_."

He barely noticed as the engine to Mach 4 was cut off abruptly, leaving nothing but a deafening silence for his ears to swallow. For his mind to grasp onto.

'_Can I come to the track with you, Rex?'_ Speed's innocent question from earlier echoed through his ears. _'I won't tell, and I promise I won't get in the way.'_

'_I promise I won't get in the way.'_

A hand clapped Rex on the shoulder tightly, and he flinched horribly as the voice from earlier spoke, tearing him away from the haunting words.

"My crew's called the hospital, Racer. They're sending a helicopter for you two now. They'll be here soon." The voice was trying to be kind, soothing. "You shouldn't be moving him … in fact, maybe you should lay back down, too. Your head doesn't look so good." Rex wanted no part of it, wrenching his shoulder away and focusing his attention back solely to his brother.

"Speedy," he spoke calmly – dangerously calm. "You know what happens if you don't wake up, don't you? You can't be a racecar driver. At all. You won't even be allowed around cars or tracks ever again. You'll be too boring. Hear that, bud?" He gave his arm a little shake to jostle him. "No racing, no cars, no tracks, _**nothing**_. " His said the last word loudly, pressing his mouth right next to Speed's ear, desperately hoping for the reaction his little brother often gave to the words. For one horrible moment, Speed remained silent and unmoving; Rex's hazel eyes began to burn.

And then the body in his arms twitched, and a small, high-pitched keen of pain escaped Speed's still closed lips.

Rex released the breath he hadn't known he was holding, a delirious laughter bubbling up and coming out in an obnoxious way. He pulled his brother to his chest. "That's right, Speedy," he crooned in his older brother tone. "You won't be Speed Racer the WRL racing champion, you'll be Mr. Racer, the lawyer."

"'ilnot." It was slurred and muttered, but it was a sign of life, and it had the older Racer clutching his brother to his chest so tightly that he would later be sure that it hurt both of them. But right now, all he knew was that Speed was alive, talking, and apparently comprehending. For all he cared, Pops could show up right now and beat him until he was black and blue. He just didn't care. All that mattered was Speed was still with him.

Still with him.

"Rex?" Speed sounded confused, and he allowed the younger to pull away slightly to look at their surroundings as the sound of the approaching helicopter made itself known, conscious of whatever head injury the boy had sustained. Speed took a moment to look around through pain-narrowed eyes, before allowing his head to fall back against his brother's bicep, a silly, slightly out-of-it grin on his face that Rex found himself mirroring. His two front teeth were missing.

"'at was _awesome_."

**.T.**

The sun was still high in the sky as Rex eased the Mach 5 onto their street, going well below the speed limit for the sake of the pain that still racked both of their bodies. It had turned out that a trip the hospital had not been necessary after all. The medical personal, like Rex, had been alarmed by all the blood on Speed's head and face, but a quick clean up head revealed a shallow knock to the side of the head as one source, and two missing teeth as the other. Rex himself had received his fair share of the attention for his own head wound, but when it had been revealed that other than that and several very sore muscles, that there was nothing wrong with the racing protégée and his younger brother, they had been unsure about whether or not to take them to the hospital.

Luckily enough, what fame Rex had managed to secure was enough to give his word some weight, and when he had assured the E.M.T.s that he had every intention of taking his little brother home and resting for the next several days, they had left, leaving strict warnings to take said bed rest and to alert their parents to possible concussions.

He had not told them that he would be driving home. They didn't need to know.

The Mach 4 was currently under the care of Sam Silvertine, the owner of the voice that had found he and Speed after the crash. Silvertine had assured him that as soon as she was ready to be moved without falling to pieces, the Mach 4 would be delivered to the garage with no charge. Rex decided that, if Pops allowed him to continue racing after this, he would get to know the other driver. It was rare to meet such honest people on the track anymore.

As they neared their home, Rex glanced over at Speed, who, after the initial adrenaline had worn off, had remained uncharacteristically quiet. Blue eyes stared hard out toward the road beneath a not-so-discreet white bandage that wrapped around his entire head, mouth set in a firm line of distress. Taking a quick glance around to make sure that no one was outside of their homes, Rex eased the white car into a stop, placing it in park as he cautiously turned to stare at his brother. It didn't take Speed long to realize what was going on.

"I'm sorry for turning us over, Rex." Speed's voice was shaky, uncertain; he refused to turn around to meet the eyes of his brother. "I'm sorry I tore up 'e Mach 4 and 'at I got us hurt and I'll take all 'e blame when Pops finds out and I understand if you never let me drive again and --."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Rex interjected, incredulous. "Speedy, you don't really think I'm mad about all of that, do you?" The little boy turned around, but refused to look up. Rex blinked. "Speed Racer, look at me." Reluctant blue eyes did just that, filled with a mixture of hope and fear that had Rex's gut wrenching. "The turnover was an accident, Speedy. I'm not saying what you did wasn't wrong, because it was. You should have asked before putting it in third." Speed looked back down. "But you didn't mean to flip the Mach. That was an accident, Speedy, and all drivers have them. All real drivers," he added as a hint, and was rewarded when Speed finally looked up with a shy, gapped-tooth smile.

"You seemed upset earlier," he argued softly, and Rex grimaced.

"I wasn't upset, Speedy," he admitted. "I was worried. When you wouldn't wake up … it scared me. I thought you were hurt _really _bad, and that you weren't going to wake up again. I was … scared. Really scared." It was a rushed confession, as Rex was quite aware that he was supposed to be the older brother who never showed his emotions to his youngest – it was not a burden Speed was meant to shoulder.

"I'm sorry," the raven-haired child said again, and in rash movement, reached out and clutched the seventeen-year-old's hand. And Rex, fed up with his brother feeling guilty, quickly reached out an arm to wrap around the small shoulders, pulling him close in a gentle, one-armed hug.

"Just don't do it again, Speedy," he commanded, keeping his brother close to his side as he pushed the Mach 5 back into drive. "Now, as for letting you drive again … why don't we just wait and see if _I'll _be allowed to drive again, okay bud? It's 2:30 … I'd say we're definitely late for lunch, and that they know something's up." He felt Speed shudder.

"What do we tell _Mom_?" The older shrugged.

"Just tell her what you told me, kiddo. That it was 'awesome'."

And when they pulled into the garage, Rex kept his tired smile as Speed ran toward their waiting, shocked parents, yelling happy excitements as the large bandage on his head wobbled, and could only shrug when they shot him accusing glares. Yeah, the Mach 4 was a jumbled mess, he and Speed were definitely not on the top of their health game, and his racing career seemed uncertain with every flex of his father's jaw. But still, 2 hours later, Rex couldn't bring himself to care.

Speed was okay, and that was all that mattered.

**End**

_A one shot that's longer than most of my first chapters. Ha. _

_Note on Sam Silvertine. I noticed a name similar to it on the fountain plaque before The Crucible, the one "To Those Who Gave Their Lives for the Sport". I wanted to mention one of them to foreshadow a bit. Also, note on Pops being with their mother at the end. She mentioned the look on his face when Speed came in with that crazy grin when she and Speed were reminiscing after Fuji, so I figured he was there somewhere, so why not where I wanted him? X3_

_Anyway, I hope you guys liked it, because I have either two or three other Speed Racer one-shots coming out. So please click that lovely little review button down at the corner of the screen a let me know what you thought, okay? Thanks for reading!_

_Always,_

_Me_


	2. Part Two

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own Speed Racer. That right belongs strictly to Speed Racer Enterprise (who secretly want to hire me to one job or another, they just don't know it yet). I'm just borrowing their characters and the 2008 movie's concepts for my little one-shot. They'll all get over it and live._

_**Notes**__: There was a loose end that needed to be tied up. Voila! The socks._

_**Notes2: **__**I now have Taejo's car, the GRX, and the Speed Racer necklace. Still looking for the Mach 6, though.**_

_**To Reviewers: In case my replies weren't enough – I love you all! Consider this for you, ne? D**_

_**To reviewer Racer X: **__Racing School?! Where?!__And seriously, if you come up to my McDonalds (if you find it), and say "SerpentsAttire said I could have the SR toys", I will give you all the cars we have. xD. And as for that dare – it's now up to six (my theater makes so much money off of me), so only one more to go! Thank you very much for your review._

_**To reviewer Cassie: **__Sure, I'll do it. I've been begging my regular reader's for one-shot requests for ages. No problem. And thank you for the review!_

_**Warnings: **__Utter and unadulterated attempted brotherly fluff, language, and possible abuse of the movie's timeframe._

**Part Two**

The vividly colored house had long since been dark by the time Rex had even considered the haven that was his twin bed. This small fact had gone unnoticed by his eyes during the hours he had soaked in the small bathtub in the bathroom he shared with his brother in hopes of ridding his body of the aches that had since enveloped him. The effort had, instead of bringing relief, called forward a stabbing headache that made him glad instead of hurt for the sudden darkness – the colors not withstanding, his father's lecture had wreaked murder across his head, and he truly did not think he could have withstood another round. But because of the silence accompanying the dark, he was now attuned to his body in much the same way as with the Mach 4 – the gentle thumping of his heart a nuisance to the new sensitivity, ragged breathing a grating on his nerves.

And though he loved his family and their brightly colored abode, it was for the reason that it was a relief to climb atop his fluffed mattress and between the cotton sheet and bedspread, surrounded by his poster-plastered orange walls that were dim in the night's light and no noise but that of his body. And though he appreciated _that_, the small blessing was also a cruel torture, as it gave his mind nothing else to latch itself onto accept for the horrific events of earlier that day.

The post-terrified whimpers of his mother as she clutched her youngest son to her chest, Pop's fierce, murderous glares as he stood between him and Speed, growling in the low way he did when he could think of no words to say. Twenty-year-old Sparky's shuddering in realization of what could have happened had fate been less kind, his disbelieving stare at Rex. The silence gave him the needed solitude to reminisce over the flip, to remember anything and everything that had gone wrong in the short amount of time he had taken his brother out on the track. To recall the sighs, to remember Speed's small body pressed against his, so sure in the safety his older brother was supposed to be providing. To remember the squeal of the Mach 4's tires as she spun, the horrific crunching of her metal against that of the track, his little brother's lifeless, bloodied body cradled in his arms …

That Speed had apologized for the accident – believed that it was his fault – made Rex more sick than any virus ever could.

'_He was hurt,'_ his mind snarled viciously, and he took sadistic pleasure in his own flinching. _'If anyone should have apologized, it should have been _**you**_. _**You**_ were the idiot who let him drive the damn car. For God's sake, he could have _**died**_!'_

Rex's eyes slammed closed in a frown, only to immediately snap open as the screeching of the crashing Mach once again filled his ears.

"Damn it," he moaned, sweeping an open palm over his watering eyes in unwanted exasperation. "Just … God!" The bed squeaked in protest as he slowly sat up, leaning his head into his folded hands as his elbows pressed against his knees for support. "I know it was me, I know it was my fault!" His whispers were violent as the raked across his throat and through his lips, as sure of their intended target as their oblivious creator. "I know it! What the hell do you want me to _do_?"

'_I promise I won't get in the way.'_

"Shit, Speedy."

He could remember the first time he saw his little brother – a one-week-old crying bundle of skin and bones wrapped in a blanket in his mother's arms when he was nearly eight-years-old. Pops had him lifted up on the side of the hospital bed, warning him not to smack the infant with his ceramic model of the Mach 1 that he still grasped tightly in his small hand. Rex had been highly unimpressed with his new sibling, finding his cries quickly annoying and the attention he was receiving far from acceptable. He had only muttered a quiet "Hello" before squirming in his father's grasp in point to be let loose. However, just as he was being lowered, he managed to lose his grip on his small car, his mother's startled gasp assuring him that it had, in fact, landed on the baby. He had cringed as his father's grip unconsciously tightened, waiting for Speed's wails. It wasn't until nothing happened that he had cracked open an eye, only to see the vivid blue gaze staring at the upturned green car in wonder, and a small, little quirk that may have been a smile on his pudgy lips. And despite his parents later telling him Speed could not have smiled at that age, it was at that moment – when Speed showed an interest in cars – that Rex started thinking of the baby as his little brother. It was a memory so vivid and sacred to his mind that the eldest Racer son was certain he would never forget it.

Which made the words his mind continued to pound him with all the more painful, so much so that the slight knocking at his bedroom door caused him to groan in discomfort.

"I don't want to talk right now," he called out, standing, wincing as his voice croaked over the words. "It's two in the morning, can't we continue the lecture after breakfast?" He knew he had no right to be bitter with either one of his parents for their anger toward him, but when he compared the magnitude of their anger toward him to that of the magnitude he had toward himself, it seemed annoyingly lacking. And he certainly didn't have the emotion to spare to deal with it right now.

The knocking repeated itself, softer this time, as though uncertain, and with a growl, Rex heaved himself from his position, hand outstretched to yank open the dim knob when the door creaked open.

"R-Rex?" His advancement stopped, and he stared at the open space, dumbfounded.

"Speedy?"

There was no usual returning call. Countless times had Speed come to his room in the dead of night, seeking his comfort after a nightmare rather than their parents, as Pops was apt to send Speed back to his room, whereas Rex would share his bed for the remainder of the night. Those times, Speed would knock as he had now, and then throw himself against the older boy's frame, sobbing and speaking of ungodly terrors that only children could come up with. Now, however, there was no noise to support that the child was, indeed, still in the room, and in that motion of confusion and panic, Rex's own exasperation was momentarily gone as he reached against the wall and flicked on his light switch.

Speed was still there, alright, clothed in his racecar pajamas, his blue eyes bloodshot and his pale face damp with hours of tears.

"Speedy …" Rex breathed. "What's wrong? What happened?" He reached out a hand to clasp his little brother's shoulder, only to jerk to a stop as the younger boy flinched away from him. His heart spiked with hurt as Speed looked down, slowly ambling into the room. "Speed?" And he hated how desperate his voice sounded.

"I'm sorry." The words were soft, pained, and far more mature than they should be for any eight-year-old. Rex blinked as he shut the door.

"Sorry?" He inquired, trying to keep his tone light. "Sorry for what, bud? We've already talked about this. It was an accident, and the Mach 4 will be back up to par in no time--." Speed cut him off with words that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"I'm sorry I almost got us killed," he whispered, and Rex froze.

"W-_what_?"

Speed Racer was not shy by nature. He was outgoing to anyone who instigated conversation, constantly broke into arguments in class with children who weren't even speaking to him, and was quick to offer his thoughts on any exchanges between adults, no matter if he understood what was being said or not. He was reliable to always be looking someone dead in the eyes whenever addressing them, and to make sure that if it was only he and someone else in the room, than that someone else's attention was focused solely on him.

But now Speed was peering up at him between his thick eyelashes, small body trembling so violently that had he been holding anything breakable it would be in pieces on the floor by now. Rex gulped down the steady anger that was building inside of him to whoever had put that crazy idea into his head, instead slowly reaching out a hand to tilt his brother's chin up, this time ignoring the pang of pain the flinch brought on.

"Speedy," he called softly, comfortingly. "What are you talking about? We didn't almost die." _'Liar!'_ his mind growled, and he shoved the title aside harshly as Speed's eyes filled with fresh tears.

"Yes we did!" He cried out, jerking away and backing up against the window. "Pops and Mom were arguing about it in 'eir room while you were in the tub! 'ey said I could have gotten us killed – _I heard 'em_! Pops …" he shuddered, and his next words quieted drastically. "Pops said my mistake could have had 'em burying two sons tonight." And Rex hissed.

'_And I'm the idiot?' _He demanded mentally to their father.

"I don't want you to die, Rex," his little brother continued softly, oblivious of the other's internal battle. "I won't ever drive again, if you won't die. Will 'at work, Rex? I won't even go to the track anymore, if 'at'll help. I'll—."

"Shut up, Speedy," Rex snapped, and then sighed as the younger instantly did so, new tears sliding down his face. Rex inched forward, cautiously, so as not to frighten, gradually stretching out his arms until they were both behind the child. And then he quickly wrapped them around Speed's shaking form, pulling the boy against his chest in a bone-crushing hug as the latter soaked his shirt quickly with quiet, heart-wrenching sobs. "Shhh," he soothed, running a hand up and down his brother's back as the other carded through his hair. "Shhh, Speedy. It's okay. It's okay. I'm right here, buddy. I'm right here. We're both okay. Shhhhhh."

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, even when he looked back on it years later. What felt like days could have been hours or minutes. All he knew was that with every new, pain-filled breath Speed took, a piece of his heart ripped away, and that with every tear of the other that touched his skin, a tear of his own would sneak from his eye. After Speed had somewhat quieted down, he had picked them both up off the ground and instead sought refuge on the bed, where the still crying child had curled up against him, keeping his face firmly implanted in the crook of his brother's neck, and Rex still kept his arms locked around him, soothing him, neither seeing a reason to move.

"Pops was wrong, Speed," he murmured a while later, when the tears had finally dried and the vicious shudders had died down to occasional shivers. "That accident wouldn't have killed us. I promise you that. And you know why, don't you?" The mass of curly black hair – freshly released from its bandages – tickled his nose as the small head shook in negative response. "It's because of those red socks that you're always wearing. Those are the only reasons were survived."

"What?" Speed pulled away slightly, his voice hoarse as he stared at his brother in disbelief. "My socks? But you said you didn't _like_ my red socks, Rex." The last words were pointed and annunciated with a small, defeated pout. If this were any other time, the seventeen-year-old would have jumped on the chance to tease his little brother with the natural instinct that demanded he do so. Now, however, it was an impossibility as he stared into the still-red blue eyes that looked up at him with adoration.

"I didn't," he admitted softly, before smirking. "But that was before they saved us. Can you imagine the headlines? 'Racer Brothers Saved in Serious Car Accident by Magical Red Socks. More on page eight.'" That brought forth the giggle Rex had been fishing for, and he let out a relieved grin as Speed cracked his small, newly gap-toothed smile.

"Really?" He demanded softly, only a hint of doubt left in his voice, and Rex lowered his head so that both of their foreheads were touching, holding back the wince the contact caused his wound.

"I wouldn't lie to you, little brother," he assured, pulling back as Speed stared at him in wonder. "Now, let's get some sleep, huh? I don't know about you, but I really want some of Mom's breakfast in the morning. I'm not going to sleep through _that._" He maneuvered so that he could pull back the covers, allowing Speed to climb in first.

"She's making pancakes," came the soft reply. "I heard 'at, too." And Rex grinned as he reached over to flick the secondary light-switch, before settling in beside him.

"Pancakes? Awesome. Definitely going to sleep now." He laid his head on the pillow, grin dying down to a small smile of contentment as Speed snuggled his way back against his chest – he wrapped his arm back around the small frame, holding him in the position he apparently wanted to stay in.

"Love you, Rex," Speed's voice was thick with the exhaustion of the day, but it still held that excited spark that came whenever he spoke to him. Rex pulled him closer.

"Love you too, Speedy," he whispered into the curly hair, eyes closing as Speed's breathing slowly deepened beside him.

'_He'll know the truth someday_,' his mind tormented. _'He'll know that you almost got him killed. He'll find out.'_

'_He won't have to,'_ he argued back. _'When he's old enough, I'll tell him exactly what happened – I'll tell him it was my fault. Until then and after, though, nothing like this is ever going to happen to him again. I won't let it.'_

'_I'll watch out for him forever.'_

**.T.**

"I need to talk to you."

It was the first time Rex had ever taken that tone with his father, and it was the first time had he had ever been the first to speak right after any argument they had had. From the corner of his eye, he could see his mother freeze at the stove, and he could feel Speed tense up beside him, and could practically imagine the wide blue eyes looking up at him in horror. But his main attention was focused on his dad, whose fork was frozen halfway to his mouth, the piece of pancake on it still steaming.

"So talk," his father finally growled, frowning deeply in warning. Rex, however, matched the expression with just as much ferocity, his own plate of half-eaten pancakes ignored. Everything inside of him screamed to stop being so idiotic, to just go back to eating his breakfast and hope that the murderous rage building off of Pops Racer would die down by the time he hit thirty. But then he remembered last night, remembered Speed's broken words and flood of tears, and his protest was silenced with renewed vigor.

"In private," he growled back in near-perfect imitation, standing up and heading toward the garage. "Stay, Speedy," he ordered as an afterthought, knowing his little brother was already getting up to follow. He didn't even pause at the door, knowing Pops wouldn't be able to hold himself off from following his son. So him simply moved to lean against the gentle side of the Mach 5, waiting.

And he was right. Not a minute later, his father had thrown open and then slammed the garage door, bearing down on his location with a red face and a clenching jaw.

"You are looking to get your ass _grounded_, boy, if not beat," he snarled, spittle flying from his mouth with the words. "You think that you can talk to me like that, after that stunt you pulled yesterday? Are you out of your mind?" At first, it had taken all that Rex had not cringe from his father's wrath. But at the word 'stunt', it all faded with surprising, and slightly alarming quickness.

"Yeah, well, after my baby brother comes into my room at two o'clock in the morning, crying and saying that he was sorry he almost got us killed, the respect I have for you kinda takes a back seat, Pops," he hissed viciously, smirking in a satisfied way as his father's face paled.

"He … he said that?" The Racer patriarch stammered. Rex nodded grimly.

"That, along with your own personal quote of how his driving could have had you burying two sons last night," he continued mercilessly. "You're my dad and I love you, but if you _ever_ put an idea like that in his head again I swear I will never speak another word toward you." Pops' eyes flashed, his momentary stun quickly overrun by his infamous anger.

"Now you listen here, Rex--."

"_No!_" The cry cut him short. "I had to comfort Speed last night for two hours before he would go back to sleep. Comfort him over blame taken for something that was my fault. And it was my fault! He could have died because of something I did, Pops, not him! He's eight-years-old, he shouldn't even know what death is, let alone think that he could be responsible for it!" He turned away, bracing his hands against the Mach 5 to balance his weight. "The accident was entirely my fault, we both know it. So you can ground me, beat me, fire me from driving, _whatever_. But you're going to go back to Speed and tell him that you didn't mean a word that you said last night. I meant what I said, Pops." He took in a breath, and let it out. "If you hurt him again, ..."

There was one knock on the garage door before it opened – both men looked up to see his mother poke her head in, eyes uncertain as she scanned them both.

"Mr. Silvertine is here with the car," she said softly.

"Be there in a minute," Pops answered, and after a second and another swift glance, she nodded and closed the door. They stood in silence for a moment before Pops finally turned to look Rex in the eyes.

"I'll speak with Speed," he assured stiffly, as though bending to the request pained him. "And you will serve out your punishment for letting him drive." He sounded as though he wanted to say something more, but Rex, so used to such a situation, simply nodded and moved back toward the door.

"Tomorrow," he agreed. "I promised Speedy I'd help him fix up his car today so that he can start taking it to the park and school." He paused at the door, turning his head to the side so that his father would know he was addressing him, but so that he didn't have to look at him at the same time. "And you're wrong about his driving. He's got one hell of an instinct, Pops. He's going to be an amazing driver." And he moved through the door.

"Rex," his father called out just before he could shut it, sounding reluctant and different. "About the accident … being your fault…"

"Don't, Pops," he warned. "You know it's true." And with that, he went inside, plastering a grin on his face at the sight of Speed talking at a hundred kilometers a second to the rapidly-processing Sam Silvertine. His grin widened as both caught sight of him, Sam offering an understanding wave and Speed rushing up to him, latching on to his arm and babbling on about everything he had learned about the other driver in the past five minutes. He released his arm in favor of wrapping it around Speed's shoulders, barely noticing Pops' entrance as he locked eyes with Silvertine.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, squeezing his brother close in a mock hug.

And he wasn't quite sure who he was speaking to.

**End**

_The one-shot became a two-shot. Hm_.

_The piece between Rex and Pops came out more bitter than I intended, but I needed it to fit with the attitude during Rex's departure – that animosity between them had to start developing somewhere. 'Sides, Rex is the eldest male child, he has to butt heads occasionally. Though I do think that I made Pops' persona closer to that of the anime than the movie._

_Oh well._

_Anyway, per request of Cassie, I'm also going to write this story from Speed's point-of-view, called either "Flipped" or "I turned us over" (whichever one y'all like best, or any better suggestions would be MUCH appreciated). Also planning another one-shot during the movie which sort of ties into this one – both should be out by mid-week. Yay D_

_On a lighter note, I would love to hear how y'all felt on this one as opposed to the first part (am I only foreseeing complaints on the Rex/Pops part because I'm paranoid? D), so please click that review button at the bottom of the screen and let me know what you thought! Thank you!_

_Always, _

_Me_

_(Second note:) Found out Sam Silvertine is really Slim Silvertone. I'm not changing it for creative reasons, but I wanted all potential flammers to see that I know it before they get all bent up._


End file.
